You're A Malfoy
by worldssockrocker
Summary: Draco gets a letter from someone. It reveals the persons darkest secret... mesummeriesbad. so just read. it's my first oneshot (complete)includes suicide and slash (kind of)


So this idea is probably really over used but it kind of just came to me and I had to write it.

Disclaimer-Not mine, don't sue.

_letter_

**You're A Malfoy**

* * *

Draco Malfoy lay lazily on his bed. In his hand he held a letter. He had no idea who had written it, but he had a pretty good idea who the message was from, his father. Lucius Malfoy was the only person to ever send Draco anything.

Of course Lucius never wrote it himself, he was too afraid of getting ink on his expensive robes, so Draco wasn't that the handwriting on the front of the envelope wasn't his father's.

He sat for a while musing over exactly who had written it and what would b inside. What kind of bad, horrible news his father had for him, or maybe it was time for him to get his dark mark, although it seemed to early.

Traditionally 'children' weren't allowed to become Death Eaters. You were a child either until you were 17 or until you got married. Draco Malfoy was neither 17 nor married. In fact he was 16 and single, or as single as a Malfoy ever gets.

"Dray, are you going to breakfast?" A voice called from outside his door.

"No, Pansy, I'm not. You should go though. People will think we're sleeping together if you don't," he said with a shudder.

"But you're a _man_!" Pansy exclaimed in disgust. Pansy was rather flamboyantly gay, but that didn't stop people from thinking that she and Draco were sleeping together if they were ever missing at the same time.

Draco heard some faint muttering and the sound of Pansy walking away. He looked uninterestedly at the letter again.

He played with the thought of setting it on fire, but decided his father wouldn't be to happy about that and then he would just be in for another lengthy torture session. His hand automatically ran over his stomach, faded scars that marked the many times he had chosen not to read his fathers letters.

Idly he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter within it. It was written in a handwriting that was terribly ordinary. The letters were more or less straight lines with no flourishes anywhere that he could see. He examined the letter even closer and saw that it was written on parchment that had the Gryffindor crest on it.

He thought back to the bird that had delivered the letter in his hand. It was a snowy owl, one he had seen before. Many times he had watched it fly over to the Gryffindor table either to deliver something or just for some food. And every time the black-haired green-eyed object of his desire would lightly stroke it's back and Draco would wish that he were the bird. There was no doubt in his mind anymore the owl belonged to Potter.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, what was Potter doing writing to him? He looked back down at the parchment, half expecting it to explode in his face. He had half the mind to 'Incendio' it himself right there but his curiosity got the better of him and instead he began to read.

_Draco,_

_I love you._

Draco nearly dropped the letter from his shock. He was dreaming; he was in some bizarre dream that he didn't have because as a child he was taught dreams were bad. He tried to convince himself he was hallucinating, but he knew he wasn't. And so, feeling very confused he went back to the beginning of the letter and started reading again, promising himself he wouldn't think about whatever he was reading until he was done.

_Draco,_

_I love you. I love you more than I love anything or anyone of this earth. I would do anything you asked me to, I would do everything you wanted me to. I would be by your side in a second, kissing you, if I thought you wanted it._

_But you don't, and I have accepted that, most of the times. _

_Sometimes though, when we're sitting in potions and you're staring in the general direction of me, I think you're looking at me, and I think there's a chance for us to be. Sometimes when you're talking to me, and your voice is venomous and harsh, I really think you're saying 'I love you Harry James Potter,' over and over again. Sometimes during Quidditch games, when we're both trying to catch the snitch, and you're arm is brushing against mine, I think it's intentional. I think that you mean to be brushing against me._

_And then I come back to reality, and I know that you could never love me. You're ice to my fire, dark to my light, evil to my good, vanilla to my chocolate, or is it the other way around?_

_Sometimes when I'm thinking about you, I get confused as to who is the good guy and who is the bad. I grew up Christian, and to the thoughts about other men that I have about you is considered a sin, one that I will die and burn forever in hell for._

_But you're Draco Malfoy, and you don't have thoughts like that about other men. It's no secret that you're all about the women, having done almost female in the castle from forth year to seventh, including my best friend. Does that make me that bad guy?_

_You're so beautiful, I don't know if anyone has ever told you that. You're eyes are like pools of liquid nitrogen. And your skin, its so pale, like cream. Cream that I just want to lap up. You're hair… on anyone else I wouldn't be able to believe that it was natural, but I've watched you since the first day of school and there has never been any signs that it wasn't._

_Yes, I have been watching since I met you. Even that first day on the train I was looking for you. After out encounter at Madam Malkin's I didn't want to have to talk to you again, so I watched for you._

_I saw you, you were standing off to the side with you're mother and father; I was already on the train. Your father was talking to you about something, I couldn't hear what though, and you looked to bored. It was almost comical. Then the train signalled it was about to leave, a man came off the train and pointed to the carriage where he had put your trunk. You nodded and waved your hand to dismiss him._

_I wanted to punch you right then, to tell you to thank him for what he did for you, now I understand you're a Malfoy, and he was your servant. But I didn't know that then, and I just wanted to hit you._

_I expected there to be hugging in your family, maybe even a few tears, like there had been in every other family I had seen. But you didn't even say goodbye. I still don't know if you wanted to, but you never had the chance, your mother and father just disappeared. _

_I saw you then, Draco Malfoy, I saw the wounded lonely boy that was you on the inside. You looked ready to cry, just standing there staring at the spot where your parents had just been. I thought you were the most beautiful creature on the planet .I wanted to go and wrap my arms around you and tell you everything would be fine._

_I have seen you change; perhaps more than even you have since that morning on September the 1st, a little over six years ago. When I turned down your offer of friendship I saw you hurt, on the inside, somewhere deep down. _

_You grew cold that day, colder than any 11 year old should be, colder than your housemates. I couldn't look at you without feeling frozen. It took me years to get over the chill that would accompany you into a room._

_I watched you get onto the Slytherin Quidditch team and I watched you play; you're amazing on your broom, no matter what new faster, and better brand it is than mine. You're incredible on it. The way you move and know exactly what you're doing, without even thinking. The recklessness you show when you're on it._

_I saw your jealousy of me; it grew every time I did something, every time anyone complimented me. You wanted what I had, a family and friends that love you no matter what. You wanted to be looked up to by the majority of the wizarding world. You wanted to be the saviour of the world you live in, not it's destroyer._

_I saw you get turned into a ferret by a crazy DADA teacher, be bounced from the ceiling to the floor numerous times, and not shed a tear, although I know it hurt; physically and mentally. You wanted to go and tell you're daddy, but you don't have a daddy do you? Just a father who doesn't give a rat's arse whether you live or die. _

_I'm not like everyone else. When I look at you I don't see a pathetic sissy who hides behind his daddy every time something goes wrong. I don't see a low-life loser who isn't worth the time of day. I see a beautiful creature that is strong and alone. _

_All you want is someone to care for you, to love you like Lucius and Narcissa should have. Someone to love you like Ron loves Hermione and like they both love me. All you want is a family._

_Believe when I say I would give you one if I could. But you're a Malfoy, so you can't have one, because you're a Malfoy. _

_To be a Malfoy means to have nothing, no one holding you to this world. You can't be tethered down by anything, because if you are you will not carry out the orders given to you to destroy the muggle world and all the filthy people in it._

_I know a lot more about the Malfoy's than you probably think I do. There's a book on you; did you know that? Dumbledore gave it to me before I killed your father. He told me to read up, learn everything I could about your family. I did, like a good boy. But I already knew most of it, just from watching you. _

_From hearing you talk to your friends and watching you interact with your family. From listening to you're father the few times we met and hearing him talk. Hermione helped too, she had a lot of guesses over the years about why you were the way you were._

_You're like a God, Draco Malfoy, one that I will worship until I draw my last breath. Everything you do is perfect, even when every one around you, especially you're father, thinks that it is flawed. I see the perfection and the beauty in everything you do._

_I think about you all the time, before I go to sleep, first thing in the morning, during classes, when I'm playing Quidditch, you're forever engraved in my mind. Your image, the way your voice sounds, the way your skin feels, your smell. Everything about you is heaven on earth for me._

_But that's not good enough. Everyday my love for you grows, and unrequited love is the worst. It hurts so badly; sometimes I just want to rip my heart out with my hands. A thousand Cruciatus' wouldn't hurt more than this. _

_Heaven on earth is not enough to keep me here; I need real heaven, or hell. I don't care which, because either way it won't hurt as much as loving you does. _

_I'll be lying on the Quidditch field, my favourite place to be. Do what you want with my body, I don't care. Tell whoever you want, the world will find out soon enough. _

_My suicide is not your fault, not that I think you would care if it was. You're what killed me though. I'm sure you're master will be thrilled to hear that. You'll be raised in his ranks and you're destruction path will be easier, because you killed Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived-to-commit-suicide. _

_Love,_

_Harry James Potter_

Draco desperately tried to come up with something to think, anything. His mind grasped the first thing he read. Harry loved him. Harry Potter actually had loved him, no one had ever loved Draco before, not his father or mother or friends. But Harry Potter, his arch-rival, had loved him, and had killed himself because of it.

Draco shook his head. No, Harry wasn't dead, this was just someone playing a cruel joke on him, probably his father. Still, part of him very much doubted this. There was only one way to find out.

Pocketing the letter he grabbed his broom and rushed out of the castle. He flew over to the Quidditch Pitch and started circling it, looking for a body.

Sure enough, it was there. Right in the centre, empty green eyes staring ahead. Draco flew lower and landed next to the man he had grown to love.

Carefully he cradled the body to himself. Gently he rocked back and forth, back and forth. He wanted to cry, but his Malfoy reserve told him not to.

He checked his watch, it was almost time for the Saturday Quidditch match, and people would begin to arrive soon. He smiled grimly, and he knew exactly what they would find.

He reached into his pocket for his wand and took it out, staring at it for a moment. He looked from it to his blood covered love, lying on the ground in his quidditch robes, empty vile of poison next to him.

Carefully Draco lay down next to the fallen boy. One hand held his wand, the other held Harry's hand. He let out a sigh, feeling content.

All it took was two words, and Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, Destroyer of the World, was no more.

The world would go into chaos without him and Potter. And they would be up in heaven, watching.


End file.
